


Learning

by rumplestiltskinsbulge



Series: Healing [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold has to start learning how to deal with going back to work after his son's accident, and how to swallow back the guilt over his hand in it. As well as the new way he's starting to look at their live in nurse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found/Reblogged on Tumblr at: http://grumplegold.tumblr.com/

Weeks went by with Belle living in the large, salmon colored manor with them. And weeks of Adam Gold’s adult son thinking he was ten years old again went by. There wasn’t much they could do, the doctors said. Nothing but take care of Neal and look for any signs of trouble physically and see a therapist for his mental needs. Belle suggested Doctor Archie Hopper to him, and so that was where they had gone. The man was a nervous and shy seeming man, and he reminded gold of a bug afraid to be squashed. But he was good to Neal, and he had a spotted dalmatian that his son adored.

At first, he refused to allow the sessions to go on without him present. He wouldn’t have the stranger alone with his son in such a vulnerable state. He wouldn’t have the man only telling him what he wanted him to know about his own son. The sessions didn’t seem to do much. All it was was Dr. Hopper asking Neal about his life and the people in it. Things that Gold could have told him without spennding so much bloody money. “Maybe you should let Archie see him on his own,” Belle suggested. Gold grumbled out that he didn’t see how that would help. Belle tilted her head to the side a bit, an action that showed that she was being patient with him. “Did you ever think,” she started, “That Neal is holding something back because you’re there?” 

That had brought him up short, and he looked from his seat at the table to his son, playing with legos on the living room floor. “He wouldn’t do that—” Adam said. “Would he?” He was uncertain, and Belle gave him a sympathetic look. “What would he have to hide from me?” The brunette chuckled softly.

“He’s your son, Mr. Gold.” She said, as though that should explain it all. “Ten or thirty, it doesn’t matter. Children always hide things from their parents.” He supposed she was right. The next week, he’d allowed his son to go to his session alone. That left him with two hours and nothing to do. Storybrooke was big enough, but it didn’t have anything that would distract him enough for two hours of worrying over his son. So instead, he’d gone home.

In coming home, he’d found Belle reading in the living room. The house was quiet, save for a soft pleasant music playing low in the background. He had quickly learned she loved her books, preferring them over TV and movies. It was something that endeared her to him. As did her taste in music; not the noise that other of an age with her seemed to enjoy, but a nice melodic sort of music. “Belle?” He asked, stirring her from her book. “You’ve a few hours to do as you please.”

"And I am." She told him, a slight smile on her lips. She seemed a bit amused to him. "I see you took my advice." She observed, almost pridefully, putting her book aside to speak with him. He shifted his weight awkwardly, leaning more on his cane.  
"I figured it was worth a try." He replied. "Besides, eventually I’ll have to go back to the shop." He had to get used to not being there 24/7. Collecting rent had been enough for a time, but he would need to get back to work soon. That was why he had hired the pretty woman on his couch, after all. So that Neal would have a caretaker and he could return to work.

"So you’re thinking of going back to work soon, then?" Belle questioned, patting the cushion beside her. "Come and sit with me. Relax a bit, unless you intend to stand for the next hour and a half." She smirked as Adam simply blink at her awkwardly before starting towards her.

"Yes, I am thinking of going back very soon." He told her as he sat. How long had it been since he’d sat so near a woman half so lovely as Miss French? How long had it been since he’d sat so closely to anyone? "You’ll— be okay with that, won’t you?" He asked suddenly, a slight shine of concern in his eyes. "With being alone with Neal, that is."

"Oh, of course!" She said, cheerily. "He is so mild-mannered, I’m sure we’ll be fine." Of course they would be. Did he truly think that such a brave, capable woman such as Belle would have any need for an old, nearly infirm man like him? And Neal— Neal was a sweetheart who could get along with anyone. They would be perfectly fine.

"Don’t you have friends?" He asked, abruptly. He realized too late how rude that sounded. But Belle just chuckled, something else he’d come to love about her. Among her many other redeeming qualities, she wasn’t offended or put off by his awkward, straightforwardness, nor his ill timed quips. "I just meant: why are you here when you could be with them?"

"I do have some, yeah." She told him with an amused grin sitting prettily on her lips. "But they all work too. Besides, I like reading when it’s nice and quiet. Neal is wonderful, but he makes it difficult to read sometimes." Gold blushed softly.

"I-I’m sorry." He apologized, as though it was somehow his fault. Her smile was kind. It always was. Belle was the kindest persona Adam had ever met, excepting maybe his son.

"You don’t have to be sorry," She said. "I love spending time with Neal. He’s wonderful, and so bright!" Even if it was a bit odd that his son was in his thirties and acted as if he were ten years old, the little nurse didn’t seem to mind. "I enjoying being with him."

"I’m glad," and he truly was. "I don’t know what we would do without you." She waved him off modestly, telling him he would be fine without her, but he shook his head. "Honestly, Ms. French. I wouldn’t even consider going back to work at all if I didn’t know you would be here. And the house would be all in shambles!"

"Wouldn’t have changed much, then." She teased. His lips twitched up into a small smile at that.

"It was quite the mess, wasn’t it?" He admitted. Bell scoffed, amused. 

"The place was filthy." She corrected. "But it was mostly antiques and cluttered paper, so it wasn’t so bad." She consented. They stayed like that, sitting on the couch with soft and lovely music playing in the background as they spoke to one another. The time to go and pick up Neal came before he knew it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken with another person for such a long time without getting a headache. She made for wonderful company, he had to admit.

It was the next week that he started back to work. It wasn’t easy leaving his son, even with Belle. Opening the shop, he’d sat in the back room, fixing up old books and wondering if Belle might like to have them. He sat, and worked, and worried… and worried… and worried. He’d gotten a break from his worrying when Mayor Mills had come in to complain about her son’s birth mother coming into town. What he was supposed to do about that, he had no clue. When he could finally close up and leave, he did so swiftly.

Entering his manor left him confused for a moment. A strange sense of dejavu hit him. The smell of supper cooking greeted him as he stood by the door. He could hear the TV playing a cartoon show that his boy liked to watch, and for a moment, Adam Gold expected to see his wife, Milah, come into the hall to greet him. “Mr. Gold,” It was Belle instead who came to him, a pretty apron she’d brought with her around her waist. She smiled brighter than his ex-wife ever had at him— even when they’d been happy.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he liked this sight better. He couldn’t help the brief image of her coming close to kiss him that flitted through his mind. “How was your day, sweetheart?” She would ask.

"Mr. Gold?" He blinked, and realized she stood nearer now, though not so near as she had in his momentary day dream.

"I’m sorry, dearie, what did you say?" he asked, a light pink dusting his cheeks in embarrassment. Belle smiled at him, bemused.

"How was your day?" She asked him again. Gold shrugged, taking his coat off to hang it on the coat hooks by the door.

"It was work." He said. "How about you? How has Neal been?" His tone showed his anxious concern.

"He’s been great," she assured him. "We did a puzzle and played a few games together. He missed you." She told him, something that made him relax a bit and smile. "I’ve almost finished supper, Neal is in the living room waiting for you." Gold nodded in understanding, and Belle left him to attend to their supper. Gold limped into the living room where his son sat on the floor in front of the television with his legos. Adam watched him for a few moments in the door way. How had this happened? His son— so carefree and successful. And now? How had this happened…?

****  
"I just don’t like her, that’s all." Adam told his son, sitting at the table of Granny’s diner.

"Well we’re getting married, papa." Neal told him, frowning deeply. "So you have to accept her. And being pleasant with her would help." He knew his son was right, but he couldn’t drop it.  
"I don’t have to do any such thing! She’s using you, Neal!" he argued. Neal hadn’t liked that one bit. He knew Gold’s thoughts on why Tamara was really with him— his money, his success. He’d stood, and they’d argued. Neal had left before their meal had come. He had left, and he had gotten hurt.

****  
"Papa!" Neal cried happily, seeing his father in the doorway. His son raced over to him and hugged him tightly. He was glad to be leaning against the frame as he did, otherwise he might have hurt his leg. "You’re home!" Adam smiled.

"I am," he said, stroking his hair gently. "How has your day been, son?" Neal took his hand and drug him into the room, chattering about his day and about Belle. Hid son was so happy, and so blissfully unawares of his own predicament.


End file.
